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He thought he would never come back here. He hoped one shot would end it all, rid him of that pain, of those tiring memories. But that didn't happen, and he was forced to live in confinement for years to come, alone with his dark thoughts, with the nightmares of this damned place. The place he didn't want to come back to.
But he came back.
When they locked him in, he imagined that when he would be released one day, he would finish what he had started. He would pick up the gun and no one would stop him this time. However, when he was finally free, under surprising circumstances and much faster than he expected, something changed about him. He didn’t know what happened, why he stopped dreaming of death. Maybe in the years when pain was his only companion, he got used to it, learned to live with it. Maybe he just went crazy, stopped thinking logically, stopped experiencing feelings the normal way, the way he should, the way he’d done before, before his whole world crumbled.
So when the pain became an integral part of him, it stopped haunting and tormenting him, he felt that he could come back. He knew that this trip would bring him more pain, but at this point, he didn't care.
So he went back to Sokovia, home. Not much had changed since the last time he was here. Maybe the streets had been cleared of rubble and debris, the air was no longer thick with smoke mixed with dust. The corpses were buried deep beneath the ground, the crying and screams were nowhere to be heard. But there was still a strange sadness and emptiness throughout the city. The whole landscape was gray and depressed. The ghost of the disaster that happened here, hung in the air. People who returned to normal life were not what they used to be. Their faces were tired, depressed, you didn't even have to ask them, to know that everyone had lost someone.
Zemo fitted perfectly in this scenery. He was just as broken as the rest of the people he passed in the streets. Like them, he lost a lot. But unlike them, instead of moving on, he submitted to one thing - his desire for revenge. He felt he couldn't start over, so why should he try at all. Why rebuild something that has no right to last.
However, the Sokovians tried to rebuild themselves, to recover from the loss. Watching them, Zemo had to admit that they were doing quite well. He had to admit, though very reluctantly, that they were stronger than him. He used to think that he was the only one who had the courage to face those that led to his tragedy, destroy them, prove their guilt. But now he realized how vain he was. He was the weak one, and the people who stayed united, moved on, tried to rebuild the country, were much stronger than him. But he couldn't blame himself that much. It was his only way to deal with pain. It was the way he always did, that was all he knew. Only revenge.
He came to the end of the street, he was on the edge of town. In the place where the effects of the impact were most visible. Where the earth was the most cracked. It was here that a monument commemorating the losses suffered by the people of Sokovia stood. Zemo felt small and weak standing in front of it. He felt a wave of sorrow fill his body. Stupid monument, stupid piece of bronze, caused such emotions in him.
It's not that stupid monument, he thought, looking at it through tears. These are the things it symbolizes, people,Them...
Looking at those anonymous faces carved in bronze, he saw his family, saw them lifelike. His son, wife, father. And the pain he thought he had come to terms with hit him with redoubled force.
He could see their faces before his eyes, but he knew they were gone. And he knew he should accept it, but it seemed so fucking difficult to him. No matter how much time passed, several months, a year, 5 years, the pain was the same.
So his family was gone. What was left for him then? He took his revenge, proved what he wanted to prove and for a moment it seemed to him that it brought him relief. But looking back, nothing has changed. He took his revenge but it didn't make him feel any better.
He looked at the monument again, wiped the tears from his face. Then glanced at the landscape of Sokovia stretching out in front of him. He looked down at his hands and thought - now what? What should I do next?